


but i have promises to keep

by johnchurch



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: e067-069 Story and Song Parts 1-3, Hugs, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, No beta we die like John, One Shot, The Hunger | John Lives, canon typical cursing, canon typical out-of-left-field plot twists, excessive usage of the word "light", extremely canon compliant canon divergence somehow, mentions of pining, might become a series?, somewhere in the middle of a redemption arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnchurch/pseuds/johnchurch
Summary: “I call John - and not this cosmic-shadow-whatever John, not corrupted John, not the Hunger, not nothin’. I know there’s gotta be some part of the guy that I got through to when I told him off about his whole existence-is-horrible bullshit - I mean, he wouldn't have come back to warn me about all this if there wasn’t! So I’m gonna bring him back, goddamnit.I’m gonna bring back my friend.”or, Merle uses the Bond Engine to try and bring back John.
Relationships: Merle Highchurch & The Hunger | John, Merle Highchurch/The Hunger | John
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	but i have promises to keep

_The first thing John sees when he inexplicably returns to consciousness for the first time since the last time is light._

_Glowing, golden tendrils begin to flicker in the black opal mass of what he knows all too familiarly now as the unending caverns of the Hunger. His vision returns first; in the slow, sure way one might wake from a dream, followed by his other senses - the feeling of his arms and legs pulled deep into the mass of darkness; the distant sound of the cacophony of battle and his own voice laughing viciously, muffled as if he were hearing it from some chasm underwater._

_He doesn’t know what to think, at first. In all his eternity of being a part of the Hunger, from its inception to the point where it overwhelmed his last scraps of humanity and swallowed him whole, he’s never seen anything like this. The beams of light, their edges becoming more and more defined as they pierce their way through the unending darkness of the Hunger, snake towards him in a way that seems almost purposeful, as if they were reaching out to John; or perhaps to the flicker of what still could be called John that was still buried deep within his own, horrible creation._

_And then, as John’s mind begins to resurface from the depths of the Hunger, he remembers._

_It’s as if the light itself - whatever it is, he hasn’t the time to reason that out now - is calling out to him. The reminders cut through his blurred mindstate in moments of indescribable clarity; memories of Parlay, of the warm oranges and yellows and pinks of the sunset, of countless shared smiles over games of chess, of the first deep pang of true sadness he’d felt in God knows how long, of the feeling of an old friend’s arms wrapped tight around him as the Hunger took hold of him and pulled him out of their reach. Thoughts don’t take long to follow in their stead - or rather, one thought, the one he’d been clinging to ever since the last of those memories reached its tragic end._

_He can’t lose his humanity again. He can’t lose Merle again._

_Everything in him clings instantly to the thought, and seemingly, so too does the light. He repeats it to himself like a desperate prayer - he can’t lose this, not now, not when he’s finally found a purpose, something worth existing for - reaching forward to try and grasp for anything to keep him from slipping back into the uncaring abyss._

_And the light reaches back._

_Countless beams pulsate and twirl around themselves, forming a pair of arms that trail off into the darkness endlessly and take hold of John’s outstretched hands. The Hunger’s shadowy grip on him grows more and more futile in its attempts to pull him back, the darkness of its abyss fading further and further still,_

And all of a sudden, John lets out a deafening, horrifying wail. 

The deck of the Starblaster shakes with a tremendous force as the cosmic entity towering over it begins to lurch forwards, innumerable beams of light coursing from the Bond Engine and piercing with purpose into its back. The ship lurches downward and to one side as Davenport grips the wheel to try and steady it, calling out "uh, hold on to your hats, guys!" with uncertain panic as the Hunger's massive claws plummet towards the Starblaster in an attempt to steady itself.

“Hey, Merle?” Taako shouts over the cacophony, grabbing the side of the ship for support as it narrowly survives the attack, leaving only a clawed gash across its deck in its wake. “What the _fuck_ did you do?”

“I mean - I had to give it a try,” Merle shouts back, shrugging. He’s the closest of the group to what was once John, crouched on the deck just short of one of its claws, watching as the light rips into its back with equal parts amazement and terror. Gesturing towards the Bond Engine, he glances between Taako and Magnus, offering the best reassuring grin he can muster. “And look, somethin’s happening, so we aren’t _completely_ screwed over, right?”

“Uh, I sure hope we aren’t!” Magnus affirms with an unsure laugh, glancing towards the Engine as the strings of light pouring from it grow taut, pulling something from deep within their target like thousands of glimmering fishing lines. “I dunno how much John this thing can take, buddy!”

Merle grits his teeth. He knew calling on John was a risky move - it’d take nothing short of miracle to truly save him, to grant the request he’d sent out to whatever forces powered the damned thing - but Merle was no stranger to miracles. 

All at once, the light pulls at the back of the Hunger, the Bond Engine stressing under the weight of its force as it threatens to rip the Hunger apart from itself. Dark opal material cascades from the bright gash torn in the Hunger’s back, the remaining orbs surrounding the being violently struggling to hold themselves together. It roars again in anguish, louder this time, retching as the light finally snaps free from where it had buried itself within it, bright tendons cascading back toward the Engine at speeds too quick to see with the naked eye.

It isn’t clear what exactly had happened, at first. There’s a bright explosion, followed by a cloud of smoke and the sound of a “well, shit” from Taako. Davenport lets out a cry of disbelief, jerking the wheel to try once more to steady the Starblaster. 

But slowly, as the smoke clears and the glow dissipates, the remains of what was once the intertwined rings of the Bond Engine become visible in their wake. The light, and the warmth of connection that it had brought with it, are gone.

And from among the rubble, emerging with the last dying glimmer of the Bond Engine’s power, a figure slowly struggles to a stand. Calloused hands covered in scars brush through messy, unkempt salt-and-pepper hair. The scars trace up the skin of forearms left bare by the cuffed sleeves of a dress shirt, up to a face carrying an expression that’s equal parts incredulous and exhausted. Shoes, impossibly elegant but coated with the remains of black opal, find footholds among the wreckage and click quietly against the wooden deck of the Starblaster as they do.

The realization that follows hits Merle like a flash of dark fire - he’d done it. He’d pulled the eye from the storm, separated creation from creator, severed the ties between the Hunger and its centrifuge - and with the Engine destroyed in the wake of it all, there was no going back.

John was _here_. 

Merle’s arms are already around him. He holds him as tight as he can, having scrambled up one broken beam of the Engine to be level with the man’s face, and in an instant he feels the embrace returned as John picks Merle up with what little strength he has and holds him back, twice as securely. There’s distant chatter and a cry of triumph at the newly weakened state that the Hunger’s been left in, but right now, Merle’s focus is far from the battle. He’ll get back to it in due time - after all, he’s got two friends he’s got to protect (and he can hear Taako call out that Merle has a _whole_ lot of explaining to do when this is all said and done, Magnus asiding to the elf that he can’t exactly be one to talk when it comes to getting huggy with the enemy). 

Right now, though, nothing else seems to matter but this.

The first thing Merle does when they pull back from the embrace is laugh. “Geez, you look like Hell.” 

John doesn’t respond, not at first. His gaze shifts between each part of the scene as he holds Merle’s hands in his own, considering his words carefully. The composure Merle’s so used to seeing in every part of John is gone, replaced with something else, something he can tell John hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

“Merle.” John states quietly. He runs a thumb over the soulwood of Merle’s hand; reassuring himself of its presence there. “I was wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but, well,” he smiles bitterly, glancing towards the Hunger. “There wasn’t a whole lot of time.”

It takes a moment for Merle to piece the man’s words together, but when he does, a smirk flashes across his face. “Aw, don’t even worry about it, buddy. Just glad you finally realized ya were.” he grins, unable to help the tears that prick at the corner of his good eye. _God_ , there’s so much he wants to talk to him about now that he can (and as Taako had pointed out, so much to explain to everyone else, who Merle has long expected to not be nearly as forgiving as he is). Words, however, seem to come difficult to the both of them right now, and Merle opts instead to go in for another embrace. “Finally find something worth living for in all that shit you n’ your little friend gobbled up?” he half-jokes.

John laughs. There’s a new sort of warmth in it, one that pulls at something deep within Merle. “Not exactly.” He returns the second embrace tentatively, not entirely certain of what to do with himself. “All that time I spent dwelling in my own nihilism, fueling the Hunger - Merle, I never gave myself the chance to find something worth living for,” John says, and doesn’t elaborate. There’s ample space between his sentences and uncertainty in his words; as even he, confident John, well-spoken John, is once more human.

It’s almost cathartic, that fact. 

Merle sucks in a breath through his teeth and gently pats John’s back. “Yeah, I figured as much with that one. So, uh,” he quirks a brow, already half-aware of the answer to his own question, “not to sound full of myself, but I’m gonna guess it had somethin’ to do with yours truly, then, huh?”

“I guess you could say that,” John can’t help a smile despite his melancholy. The feeling of _feeling_ seems not to have lost its novelty with him, and Merle pulls him just a bit closer at the familiar little quirk of his slow return to humanity. “All those games of chess, all those sunsets, the napkin drawings,” (and he laughs again at that particular note), “I found myself looking forward to them, Merle. And, well, when they were gone, when you were gone, I…” John trails off for a moment, gazing down at the deck of the ship, “I found myself wondering. Longing, in a way?” 

The word ‘longing’ dances off his lips with a bittersweet sort of bemusement. Feeling John’s face shift slightly away, Merle lets go of the embrace to let his hand rest against the man’s cheek, gently guiding his gaze back towards him. He pats John’s cheek, teasing, “C’mon now, Johnny, don’t get all sappy on me. I still got a world to save, don’t I?” He winks. “Can’t have you makin’ me all soft and gettin’ me killed again.” 

John takes Merle’s hand in his, holding it where it rests against his cheek. “There has to be something I can do to help you take the Hunger down,” he says, humor fading in lieu of seriousness as Lucretia shoots them both a pointed look from her position near the wheel. “That’s what the machine you brought me here with is for, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” Merle agrees, suddenly sheepish of the state he’d inadvertently left the Bond Engine in, “but - I guess I figured that if I could just get whatever was powering the Hunger outta the Hunger, it’d make it a whole lot easier to take it out. And at least from what I’m seein’, it worked!” He averts his gaze from the wreckage, then, back to John. “Kinda. So look at it this way - you helped just by lettin’ yourself get dragged out of whatever-the-hell you made for yourself in there! However that happened.” he asides.

John’s brow creases in consideration, no doubt mulling over the thought. He isn’t given much time, however, as Taako’s voice interjects from the deck and a familiar clawed hand regains its grip on the side of the Starblaster.

“Hey, uh, I dunno about you guys, but I’m about ready to get this show back on the fuckin’ road!” 

“And that’s my cue.” Merle says as his attention turns back towards the fight. “Anything else you wanna let me know before I go help determine the fate of th’ multiverse?” 

“One thing,” John nods. “Do you remember when I said that to have friendship, you have to have the capacity to love someone, in some sense? Old friend?” There’s a particular emphasis on the last word. 

Merle swears he feels John’s hands shake, and the gears instantly start to turn in his head. _Oh, shit._ “Yeah, yeah, I do,” he affirms, tone all-too-sly as he quirks a brow. “Is there, uh, something you wanted to tell me about that, Johnny-Boy?”

Before John can answer, though, the sound of a sudden gust of spell-cast wind catches Merle’s attention. “Shit, I really gotta go,” the dwarf nods a quick apology as he starts towards the scene, where Taako had begun to deal the final blow to what remained of the Hunger’s monstrous form. “If I make it outta this, we’ll catch up over a couple’a glasses of wine and some terracotta, alright? There’s a great little drinks and pottery place around where I’ve been staying, you’re gonna love it.” 

“Oh -- of course, Merle!” John calls back over the wind. “I’ll be looking forward to it!”

Merle can’t help a self-satisfied grin from spreading across his face. The former personification of dread and nihilism itself, the man who’d killed him upwards of 50 times, the creator of the creature his friend was currently starting to blast into oblivion, was _definitely_ into him.

**Author's Note:**

> WOW so i just finished listening to the adventure zone in a huge binge-listen over the past few months, and once merle and john's friendship was introduced, i was instantly hooked. i really love the enemies to friends to enemies to friends (again!) to lovers dynamic theyve got going on and john calling merle "old friend" in ep 68 after the whole. well. everything in ep 63 BROKE me. im sure the idea of merle calling on john w the bond engine has been done to death but i wanted to give my own take on it and use it as kind of a jumping off point for any future fluff i end up writing for them. its not quite as angsty as the other johnchurch fics ive read and doesnt really go into the real heavy redemption arc stuff that im sure would come up in the aftermath but hey, maybe one day. for now, have this little "what-if" fic! please comment and let me know what you think!


End file.
